


like water finds the sea

by bonebo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Hanzo, Cuddling, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Sneaking, Top Genji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-03-11 04:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13516572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: They've always been together--two dragons, intertwined from the start.





	1. Chapter 1

The big yellow bus pulls to a stop in Hanamura’s clean street, and Hanzo looks up from his novel just in time to see the door open before a flash of orange and green comes rushing out.

“Anija!” Genji all but leaps off the steps of the school bus and runs toward Hanzo, his green knapsack bouncing on his back; and Hanzo laughs as he staggers backward, almost bowled over by his brother’s tackling hug.

“Hello, Genji.” Hanzo smiles down at the younger Shimada, giving his dark hair a playful ruffle before he holds out his hand. “How was school?”

“It was good!” Genji clasps Hanzo’s hand in his own, and together the two walk up the long drive toward the estate; Genji swings their hands while they walk, talking nonstop about how his day was, what he had for lunch, the antics he and his friends got up to on the playground.

And Hanzo listens with his smile still stuck in place.

They’ve been doing this routine for years--ever since Genji was old enough to go to school, Hanzo would walk with him back home. When the gap in their ages meant they went to different schools, Hanzo got home first; and, loathe to give up the habit, he started to wait the five or ten minutes for his brother to show up too before he headed toward the manor. 

Now, it’s one of his favourite parts of his day.

Genji is--almost--always a pleasure to be around, with his vibrance and sweet nature, and Hanzo finds it easy to be affectionate with him. His little brother is no stranger to random flying hugs, or to being grabbed around the middle and hoisted into the air; and any time the two venture out of the house, it’s always with their hands securely clasped between them.

Hanzo can’t imagine it any other way.

“Big brother!”

Hanzo looks down sharply at the call, and his grin turns sheepish when he sees Genji pouting up at him. “I was talking to you!”

“Ah...I’m sorry, sparrow.” Hanzo leans down to give Genji’s tousled hair a light kiss and squeezes his hand. “I was distracted. What were you saying?”

“I was asking you what snacks we have!” Genji leans against Hanzo’s arm as they walk, letting out a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Lunch was forever ago, and I’m so hungry…”

Hanzo’s smile falls a little. “I don’t think Mother wants you to eat before dinner...she says it’ll ruin your appetite and you won’t eat.” He pauses, then adds with a grin and a playful push on Genji’s head, “And if you don’t eat you won’t grow, and you’ll stay tiny forever! My little baby brother!”

“Hey!” Genji shoves Hanzo right back, his bushy brows furrowed and a wrinkle in his nose. “I’m not tiny! I’m not going to be little forever, you know!”

“I know,” Hanzo laughs, giving Genji’s hand a squeeze where it still sits, held securely within his own. He leans in then, like he’s sharing a secret, and whispers, “Especially not if I share my custard cakes with you.”

Genji looks up, shocked. “You have custard cakes? Where?”

“Ah ah.” Hanzo looks away, pulling his hand free of Genji’s to cross his arms over his chest. “That’s valuable information that I would share strictly with my little brother, and no one else.”

“But I _am_ your little brother!” Genji squeals, and Hanzo has to bite his lip to restrain his laughter.

“Oh, really? That’s not what I heard you say just a moment ago--”

_“Hanzo!”_

The scuffle is quick, playful, harmless; and it ends with Genji on his brother’s back, his arms around Hanzo’s shoulders and his giggles coming out in soft pants against Hanzo’s neck. His feet swing as he’s carried, and it’s only when they’re coming up on the Shimada manor that he speaks again.

“Anija…?”

“Yes, sparrow?”

Genji hesitates, and it’s this that makes Hanzo glance over, seeing Genji’s face out of the corner of his eye. “...you are going to share your custard cakes with me, aren’t you? Because I’m your brother?”

And Hanzo laughs, the pea gravel that marks the walkway crunching under his shoes as he approaches the steps. “Yes, Genji. I’ll share with you, because you’re my little brother.” He lets Genji slide off his back, and when he glances over again, finds his brows furrowed again, a frown on his face. “...what?”

“What about when I’m not little anymore?” Genji asks, his frown growing. “What then?”

Hanzo smiles, taking Genji’s hand in his own. “Oh, Genji...no matter how big you get, you’ll always be my little brother, and I’ll always love you.” He leans in to press a kiss to Genji’s forehead, then starts toward the door.

“Now come on, little sparrow. We have cakes waiting to be eaten, and we have to hurry if we don’t want Mother to find out.”


	2. Chapter 2

Two years later sees the death of Sojiro’s wife--of Hanzo and Genji’s mother, the proud queen of their empire--and as badly as it hurts Hanzo, just settling into his teenage years, it shakes young Genji to his core.

At the funeral they stand side by side with their hands clasped tight, and Genji hides his teary face against Hanzo’s chest as he cries during the eulogy. They walk the short distance from the gravesite back to the castle together, and during the whole trip Genji doesn’t let his grip on Hanzo’s hand loosen in the slightest. 

When they get back to the castle, he’s sure Genji will break away, will want to retreat to his own room to mourn--but instead he stays by Hanzo’s side, follows him all the way back to Hanzo’s own quarters, and when Hanzo looks down at him questioningly Genji’s expression is so vacant, so open and hurt, that he can’t possibly turn him away.

He’s his little brother. And while, yes, he should try to start weaning Genji off his constant affection, while he should urge him to be more self-reliant and independent, these are extenuating circumstances. 

Genji needs him right now, and Hanzo can’t deny him.

So he lets Genji into his room, lets him climb up onto his bed, lets him cuddle up against his side under the blankets. He pets his fingers through Genji’s hair and peppers his head in kisses, gently shushing him when Genji’s cries make his shoulders quake.

“It’s okay, sparrow,” he whispers against Genji’s temple, lips moving gently against his brother’s soft skin. “I’ve got you, little one...it’ll be okay. I’m here.”

“Don’t leave,” Genji hiccups, clinging tighter like he’s afraid Hanzo will vanish in that very second--and it breaks Hanzo’s heart, has him squeezing his brother tighter.

Some part of him knows this can only lead to more problems down the line; he’s seen the way Sojiro looks at them lately, when he catches them holding hands on the way to dinner or cuddling before bedtime, and he knows his father disapproves of the childish affection when they’re on a quick path to adulthood, to carrying on the family name themselves. 

But in this moment, that part of him is silenced, overcome by the same urge that’s guided his hand since Genji was first passed into his arms all those years ago--and so he cradles his brother close against his chest, and kisses the tears off his cheeks, and tells himself the weaning can come later.

 _Soon_ , Hanzo promises himself, nuzzling into the soft, dark hair on Genji’s head and breathing in his scent--so akin to his own, but different, sweeter somehow. _Just not yet...not when he needs me so badly, right now._

“I’m here, precious sparrow,” he murmurs, and tells himself that he will worry later about how tightly Genji clings.

-x-

Later comes much faster than Hanzo expected. 

After their mother’s death, he finds Genji to be even closer than before--at his side at all times, even when Hanzo, feeling the weight of Sojiro’s gaze on him, tries to discreetly keep him at bay. Genji holds his hand under the table when they study and follows him to bed every night, and won’t leave until he’s been granted his required goodnight kisses: one on his forehead, and another on his cheek, and then Genji will return the affections with a smile and head to his own bed.

It was cute, when they were boys; but now Hanzo is pushing seventeen, and as much as he does love his brother, he can’t help the flutter of anxiety in his belly when Genji all but demands his kisses, his hugs, his hand to hold when they walk together down the hall.

On Genji’s fifteenth birthday, he makes another effort to wean him off the affection.

It’s close to midnight, and the two of them are outside, enjoying the soft midsummer’s breeze--they’ve climbed up onto the second level of the pagoda to overlook the castle’s gardens. While Hanzo sits with his legs folded beneath him, Genji lets his feet hang off the edge of the roof, swinging them idly through the warm, floral-scented air; it’s childish and whimsical, and has Hanzo sighing wistfully.

Genji glances over at him, his pupils made large with the dim light. “Anija? Is something wrong?” He scoots closer, lying his hand over Hanzo’s and snuggling up against him, tucking his body up against Hanzo’s chest warmly; and even though he enjoys the contact, Hanzo can’t help the tiny thread of guilt that it brings.

He needs to fix this.

“Genji,” he starts, looking down at his brother and sitting up, putting a little more space between them. “You’re getting older now...you’re becoming a man. And you know that, with that, comes certain...changes. Right?”

Genji considers him for a moment, one brow raised; then he bursts out into a wide grin. “Anija, are you--is this the sex talk?”

“What? No!”

Genji throws his head back and laughs, a merry sound, and Hanzo finds himself conflicted by how it makes him feel. He draws in a steadying breath and starts again. “Genji...no. What I’m trying to say is...we’re older now. Things that we used to do when we were young, like the cuddling and the kissing...they’re not appropriate, anymore.”

And he hates it--the words are bitter like ash on his tongue, and he’s almost scared to look at Genji, to meet the hurt he’s sure he will find. But when he glances into Genji’s eyes they’re bright, that same smile still making his lips curve as he says, “Anija...does my cuddling make you uncomfortable?”

Hanzo frowns slightly, uncertain about Genji’s angle. “...well...no. But--”

“Then what’s the problem?” His smile still in place, Genji leans in and brushes aside Hanzo’s dark bangs with his fingertips, then presses a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. When he pulls away, he’s still close enough to have the air between them mingling as he murmurs, “You said it yourself, anija--I’m your little brother, no matter how big I get. Right?”

Hanzo’s heart clenches in his chest, but he knows Genji has him trapped; what is he supposed to say? This is his little brother, his beloved sparrow, and if that affection is something that Genji still wants, then surely it’s fine.

Right?

“...yes, Genji,” he says, and watches the younger Shimada’s smile widen.

“Good night, anija,” Genji says, pecking another fleeting kiss to the top of Hanzo’s head before he’s getting up and walking away--and Hanzo stays where he is and stares out at the stars in the dark sky, and prays to whatever god will listen for any type of guidance.


	3. Chapter 3

Guidance comes to Hanzo in the form of Sojiro, summoning him to his office before the sun has fully risen into the sky.

It’s dread, not tiredness, that makes Hanzo’s feet drag as he walks down the hall toward his father’s chambers--trepidation and anxiety coiling in his gut like two angry snakes, spitting disapproval and venom at each other in Sojiro’s voice--and when he comes inside he tries to not look too guilty. 

He finds Sojiro sitting behind his desk with a steaming cup of tea. Sojiro glances up from the holopads strewn across his desk and waves him in. “Hanzo. Take a seat.”

Hanzo sinks into the closest one with a stiff smile. “Good morning, father.”

“It may still be.” Sojiro leans forward, folding his hands beneath his chin. “I think you know what I have called you here to discuss.”

Hanzo licks his lips and thinks of how soft Genji’s own lips are, when they kiss his forehead or his nose, how they curl up in his mischievous smile. “I’m afraid I don’t.” He doubts he’ll be feeling them again soon.

Sojiro raises one scarred brow, his eyes narrowing a little. “Hanzo. You are nearly seventeen years old. You will be a man soon.”

It’s not a question, but Hanzo feels obligated to respond nonetheless. “Yes, father.”

“Your brother is no longer a child, either. You know this.”

A cold weight settles in the pit of Hanzo’s stomach, and has him curling his hands into fists atop his thighs. “...yes, father.”

“What I have seen, and what the guards have seen, between the two of you, is unbecoming of two young masters of the Shimada clan. You are not children anymore, and it is time you both stopped acting like you are.” Sojiro leans back, his mouth settled in a firm line on his stern face. “The silly hand-holding, the closeness and the kissing, will stop. I will not have my sons acting like childish little brats under my roof.”

“Yes, father.” The words are bitter on Hanzo’s tongue, choking him like ash. He dips his head in a short bow so that Sojiro doesn’t see the turmoil on his face. “I apologize. It will not happen again.”

“Good.” Sojiro’s frown softens, and his voice falls to a lower tone as he says, “My son...I do not say these things to be cruel to you, or to deny you happiness. I am simply trying to cultivate you like one should a prized young dragon, to make sure that you are ready to take my place in this clan when I am gone from this world.” He pauses, then asks, “You know that, don’t you?”

“...Yes, father.” Hanzo looks up then, keeping his neutral mask in place. “May I go?”

Sojiro considers him for a moment, then looks away, a long sigh leaving him. “Yes, you may.”

“Thank you.”

Hanzo is up and out of the room faster than he recalls ever moving before, and when his feet habitually start to head toward Genji’s room he makes himself stop. He lingers in the hallway for a moment, breathing shallowly through his nose and trying to decide what he’s going to do--does he tell Genji of the talk he’d just had with Sojiro? Can he trust that Genji would obey their father’s word, instead of rebelling even stronger against it, just to be spiteful?

Would it even matter?

Probably not, Hanzo thinks, sinking against the wall with a low, heavy sigh. He can’t recall their father’s command stopping Genji from doing things he’s wanted to do before, and he doesn’t know why this time would be any different--but still. He has to try.

Hanzo draws in a deep breath and heads for the shrine, needing the clarity of incense and prayer now more than ever.

-x-

Time passes.

Things change between them, but only on Hanzo’s end--he stops feeding into Genji’s cravings, stops supplying his brother with the kisses and cuddling that he wants, makes himself busier with his training so he is less available--and he finds that his own resilience is met, then outmatched, by his brother’s. Instead of asking for affection, Genji just takes it; chasing after Hanzo to grab his hand when they walk to dinner, or showing up uninvited to his training sessions and watching, commenting on the shine of Hanzo’s hair or the way his muscles move beneath his skin. With Sojiro’s disapproving gaze still burning in the back of his mind, Hanzo does his best to ignore it, to not give Genji the attention that he knows he wants.

And then Genji gets a girlfriend.

Hanzo accidentally stumbles upon them, one afternoon--Genji had been late to training, again, and it fell to Hanzo to find his brother and fetch him before their sensei did. He storms through the halls toward Genji’s bedroom with a scowl fixed in place, and flings open Genji’s door with a lecture on the tip of his tongue--

And then he finds himself staring at his little brother, liplocked with some girl he’s never seen before, both of them stretched out on Genji’s bed like they haven’t a care in the world.

For a moment all Hanzo can do is stare, a feeling akin to ice rushing through his veins, coating him from his head down; and then the girl’s eyes open and fall on Hanzo, and she jerks away from Genji with a squeak, huddling backward like she’s afraid Hanzo will cut her down on the spot.

And granted, he has half a mind to.

But before he can do or say anything, before he can so much as move, Genji is on his feet, looking at Hanzo with wide eyes and a blush on his boyish cheeks. 

“Oh shit,” he says, grinning breathlessly. “Hanzo, what--oh, shit, did I miss training again? I completely forgot!”

“You did,” Hanzo says icily, and though he knows he should be looking to Genji, making sure his brother is getting ready for their sparring, he finds that he can’t take his eyes off the girl, still sitting on the edge of Genji’s bed with her pink lipstick smeared.

Hanzo wants to backhand her for daring to touch his brother. Hanzo wants to scream in her face and demand she get out, Hanzo wants to grab Genji by his messy hair and drag him into a kiss of his own, just to show this stupid girl how his brother deserves to be treated, to show her how Genji does and will forever belong to him.

Instead Hanzo turns on one heel and storms back down the hallway, heading straight for his own quarters and the sanctity they offer. 

He is almost certain that if he were to spar with Genji right now, he would not be able to keep from striking his brother down.


	4. Chapter 4

Hanzo’s sleep is fitful. 

He dreams of a memory--an encounter that happened nearly a week ago, when Genji came to him late at night, stealing into his quarters like he had any reason to sneak around his brother. Hanzo lowered his book and looked over as the bed dipped with his brother’s weight, raising a brow at him.

“It is late, sparrow. Why are you still up?”

Genji’s grin was small, but devious. It was a good look on his pretty face. ”I didn’t get my good-night kiss from you yet, anija.”

“Ah.” The answer made Hanzo’s gut churn with trepidation--and though he tried to hide it, he wasn’t sure just how successful that was. He thought back to his talk with Sojiro, and had to fight the frown. “Of course. I did get home late, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Genji wriggled a little closer and crossed his legs, leaning in like he was going to share a secret. Hanzo found himself mirroring the action without any conscious thought. “I’m starting to think you don’t like my kisses anymore.”

Hanzo reached out to ruffle Genji’s hair with a snort. “You know that’s not true. Don’t be a drama queen.”

Genji grinned at him and lunged forward, tackling Hanzo down to the bed; and Hanzo rolled with the attack, wrapping his arms around Genji’s torso and wrestling with him, just like they used to do when they were boys. It was fun, soothing; Genji’s easy laughter was like a soothing balm to Hanzo’s troubled heart.

After the playful tussling, Hanzo found himself on his back with Genji sprawled across his chest, both of them breathing a little heavier and with breathless smiles on their faces. After a few quiet moments of recovery, he looked down at Genji and dipped his head enough to press a kiss to his brother’s hair. 

“You should go to bed, sparrow,” he said, as he started to work his way out from under the drape of Genji’s body. “I’m tired, and you have to be too.”

“Mm...I might be.” Genji looked up, something reckless in his gaze. “But good-night kisses--”

“I just gave you one,” Hanzo protested, as Genji sat up beside him. 

“You did,” Genji agreed. “But I have to return the favour.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes good-naturedly, turning his head to present his cheek and smiling at the kiss Genji placed there; and when he looked back, he was mildly surprised to see Genji still there, hesitating, waiting. Hanzo cocked a brow, curious. “What now?”

And his answer came when Genji leaned forward, his eyes closed and a hint of pink dusting his cheeks, and pressed a kiss directly to Hanzo’s lips.

It seemed like time stood still, in that one moment--Hanzo was too stunned to do much more than sit there, frozen to the spot, as Genji’s soft lips stayed held against his own. When Genji broke away it was with a nervous-sounding chuckle and a quick, “Good night, anija”, before he hurried up to his feet and all but ran from the room, leaving Hanzo to sit on the bed and stare after him.

And here his dream shifts, leaving the memory behind.

In his dream Hanzo leaps up and chases after his brother, something unnamed and unacknowledged but ever-present racing hot through his blood as he grabs Genji’s wrist and yanks him around. Their eyes lock and there are no words between them because there is nothing to be said--only things to be done, movement to be made, as Hanzo backs Genji up against the wall and tangles his fingers in his little brother’s wild hair, and lays a kiss on Genji’s slightly parted lips.

Genji responds to the affection like it’s all he’s ever wanted, linking his arms around Hanzo’s neck and pulling him in deeper; and as the kiss deepens Hanzo finds that unidentified desire in his belly burning hotter, the dragons inked into his skin purring with content, that hole deep inside his chest starting to fill and shrink the longer he works his lips against his brother’s.

Genji pulls away to suck in a breath of air, and the pause is long enough to pull a question to Hanzo’s lips-- _What is this, what are we doing_ \--but no sooner has he opened his mouth with the words on his tongue than the dream is fading around him, splintered into shards of an alternate reality. 

And Hanzo wakes to find Genji at his side.

“Anija?” Genji says, as Hanzo startles upright in bed; his sculpted brows are furrowed in concern. “Are you alright? I heard you talking in your sleep…”

“I’m fine,” Hanzo says, glancing to the clock--it’s half past six. He’d overslept by nearly an hour. He should be thankful that Genji came to wake him, but all he can feel is a sense of faint longing, something like anguish bitter in the back of his throat. He swings his legs out of bed, nudging Genji aside. “Move. I need to get ready for training--I’m already running late.”

Genji obediently steps to the side, letting Hanzo get out of bed and start getting dressed; and Hanzo can feel his brother’s gaze on him as he changes out of his sleeping clothes, but with the warmth of the dream lingering in his mind and the dragons still tingling under his skin it feels different, somehow. By the time he’s gotten dressed Genji has moved to the door, and his eyes are still fixed on Hanzo as the older Shimada starts to leave.

“Anija--wait.” Genji grabs his arm and Hanzo stills, turning to look at his little brother--at the concern on his face, the way his teeth worry at his pink bottom lip. 

“What is it, Genji?” Hanzo starts to pull away. “I need to go.”

Genji takes a step closer to halt the movement. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, sparrow.” The lie is heavy on his tongue, but he doesn’t know how else to answer the question--how can he be honest with Genji, when he isn’t even certain what he’s feeling himself? “I promise.”

“...alright.” Genji sounds dubious, and Hanzo isn’t surprised at that; but he is surprised when Genji leans forward again and pecks a soft, chaste kiss to Hanzo’s lips. He pulls away with a murmur of, “I’ll see you later, anija”, and starts off down the hall--leaving Hanzo rooted to the spot, thinking back to the girl he’d seen in Genji’s bed, and wondering just what the hell all of it means.


	5. Chapter 5

Hanzo’s answer comes barely a week later.

It’s well past eleven at night, and still sleep eludes him; every time he closes his eyes he sees Genji, and the girl lying in his bed, and his heart aches. He can’t place exactly why--doesn’t know what to call this feeling that eats at him, can’t fathom how he’s supposed to make it go away--but the gnawing at his core is unbearable. With a sigh he swings his legs out of bed and gets up, grabbing his robe off the hook on the back of the door and pulling it on as he heads out into the hallway.

Hanzo wanders aimlessly, his feet carrying him down the hall with no conscious thought on where he’s going. Right now it’s less about where he winds up and more about the journey there; the idle movement of his feet lets some of the restlessness bleed from him as his mind races, turning over the events of the past few weeks, trying to reason out just why walking in on Genji lip-locked with a girl has him torn up so badly.

There’s an answer, an explanation, lingering in the back of Hanzo’s mind that he refuses to give voice to--something forbidden, something that would have Sojiro disowning him for sure, something Genji could never accept--and it’s only his desire to get away from that notion that has him focusing on his surroundings again, chased from his head by his own thoughts.

He’s wound up on the other side of the living quarters on this wing of the mansion: Genji’s side. The door to his brother’s room is mere feet in front of him, closed, Genji retired for the night.

Or so Hanzo thinks--until he comes closer, and can hear noise, muffled voices from the other side.

“You are disgusting, Genji Shimada,” a feminine voice says, laced with mirth and amusement; there’s a quieter pause, then that same voice is breaking into laughter, and the sound has Hanzo’s teeth grinding. “ _Genji!_ You deviant!”

Hanzo feels the snarl twisting his lips at the cow’s words--how dare she say such things?--but before he can barge in and tell her just what he thinks of her vocabulary, Genji’s voice answers in a thick, “I know. God, I know…”

Genji’s voice trails off, replaced by a not-quite-silence punctuated by the occasional bed creak or wet noise that lets Hanzo know exactly what is going on behind that door, and he has to turn away.

-x-

After a quick trip to the kitchen, Hanzo finds himself back out on the pagoda, feet hanging over the edge of the building and the bottle of sake clutched in his fist. The night is warm and breezy, carrying the scent of blooming flowers on the gentle wind; Hanzo is content to just sit and let it wash over him, his eyes closed and belly warm with the liquor, mind blissfully blank.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting out here in the peaceful quiet--long enough to drain nearly half the bottle of sake--but it’s the sudden sound of footsteps that has his eyes opening. Hanzo leans forward and peers down between his spread legs at the ground, and blinks at the sight of Genji and the same girl Hanzo had caught him with earlier, briefly locked in an embrace before they pull away. Genji leans in to kiss her cheek and she giggles, giving him a peck in return before she turns and walks out of the gate.

“Boo,” Hanzo grumbles, taking another swig from the bottle.

In the quiet of the night, however, his voice carries further than he might think; and Genji’s keen ears pick up on the sound. He turns around, his brows furrowed, and calls into the darkness, “Hanzo?”

Hanzo nearly chokes on the sake burning his throat. “Shit.”

He tries to retreat, tries to pull his feet back up and hide against the pagoda’s wall and hope that he wasn’t seen, that Genji will forget all about it; but of course he has no such luck. “Hanzo,” Genji repeats, and this time his voice is curious. “Hanzo, what are you doing?”

Hanzo doesn’t answer. He closes his eyes and tries to stop the fluttering in his chest at how his name sounds on Genji’s lips--and when did that change? When did the mere sound of Genji’s voice start to affect him so badly, and have his belly doing flips?

What is wrong with him?

The sound of boards creaking has Hanzo opening his eyes, just in time to see Genji climbing over the edge of the pagoda. His brother is shirtless, only wearing his sleeping pants, like he hadn’t expected to stay outside; but when he sees Hanzo curled up against the wall, bottle of sake still in hand, he slowly grins.

“What’s this, anija?” Genji sits down beside him, close enough for their legs to touch, and peers at him curiously. “Sneaking outside to drink--I thought we stopped doing that years ago.”

“You’ll notice you weren’t explicitly invited,” Hanzo mutters, drawing his knees up tighter against his chest. He has no idea why, but with Genji here, his heart is racing. 

“Aw.” Genji’s grin widens: playful, teasing. Affectionate in a way that has Hanzo’s unnamed thing flaring inside his chest. “Are you too cool to hang out with your baby brother now?”

Hanzo turns his head away, staring out at the gate--at the koi ponds--at the garden--anything, anywhere, to avoid seeing Genji’s face. “You seemed to be having plenty of fun without me.”

The needling comment wipes the smile right off Genji’s face. “What?”

“Your...lady friend.” The words are sour on Hanzo’s tongue, and he chases them away with another swallow of sake; the burn has started to fade, by now. “She seems to be taking up a lot of your time lately.”

“Are you jealous, anija?” With a chuckle Genji leans in and presses a quick kiss to Hanzo’s lips, and that is enough to have Hanzo’s control shattering. “Don’t worry. I’ll always love you--”

“Enough!” Hanzo snaps, pushing Genji away from him with uncoordinated arms. “Genji, what--why? Why are you doing this to me?”

Genji recoils sharply at the response, his brows furrowing, a confused kind of hurt crossing his face. “What? Doing what to you? I haven’t--”

“You have!” Hanzo bellows, and the ache is clear in his own voice, even to his intoxicated self. “You know you have!”

“Hanzo, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“You! Me! If you’re dating her, then why…?” Hanzo gestures vaguely between them, unable to ask the question, to give voice to the dilemma that he’s let go on for far too long. “Why? Do you think that’s how we are supposed to behave? Do you think that’s--that’s normal?”

He can hear the mounting tension in his voice, feel his control slipping away; but he can’t stop, not yet. He has to know. If this is something as simple--heartbreaking--as a misunderstanding, if this is Hanzo reading too far into things or Genji just being his typical freely-affectionate self, if this is Hanzo’s confusion manifesting into something he can’t accurately name, then at least Hanzo will be able to react accordingly. This touch and go, the sneaky kisses to his lips and fleeting smiles, are doing nothing but eating him alive with equal parts guilt and taboo hope for something he can’t describe. 

But the longer Genji stares at him, the quicker Hanzo feels that hope fading away.


	6. Chapter 6

“Well? Do you?”

Hanzo repeats his question and hates the way his voice cracks, hates how desperate he sounds; but he can’t help either one. This has weighed on him--been so heavy for so very long--that he feels like he’s coming apart at the seams, and now that he’s been compressed so much there is no other option besides letting himself crack apart and fall to pieces. He stares at Genji as he waits for a response, and tries to remember to breathe.

“Hanzo…” Genji looks cowed, somehow, like he’s afraid--of what, Hanzo couldn’t say, since this was all Genji’s doing in the first place. “I...of course not, but with you, I…it’s...it’s different--”

“Different how?” Hanzo leans closer, crowding Genji toward the inner edge of the pagoda. “I can’t take this anymore, Genji, I have to know!”

“It’s--it’s because I…” Genji trails off again, his mouth working like he wants to speak but can’t; and blame it on his impatience or the sake, but Hanzo seizes the moment to surge forward and lay a sloppy kiss on the corner of Genji’s mouth.

His brother seizes up under the contact, and for a moment panic rushes cold through Hanzo’s blood--but then Genji’s hands are in his hair, Genji’s guiding their lips together, and whatever nameless thing that had been roiling inside Hanzo for so long roars in satisfaction, in a basic, primal glee.

They break away instantly--Genji’s wide eyes meeting Hanzo’s glassy ones, nothing but silence stretching between them, tense enough to shatter--and then Genji is smiling, and Hanzo can breathe again.

“Come with me.”

The command is followed by Genji grabbing Hanzo’s hand, immediately leaping from the pagoda; it’s only muscle memory and the strength of Genji’s grip that keeps Hanzo from falling onto his face on the floor, but he manages to get his legs beneath him enough to scramble after his brother down the hallway.

“Where are we going?” Hanzo asks, as Genji quickly leads him through winding corridors that he’s too drunk to recognize. “Genji, wait...what would Father think--”

But he’s cut off as Genji stops and whips him around, throwing Hanzo’s back up against the wall with enough force to knock the air from him. He leans in close, his cheeks flushed and some kind of new, wild light in his eyes.

“Father isn’t here,” Genji says, and before Hanzo can protest he’s being pushed backward, nearly tripping over his own feet as he’s urged back into a room that he only belatedly realizes as his own.

He lets Genji push him down onto the bed, and stares up at his brother with his mouth hanging slack, excitement coursing hot through his veins; whatever the thing is that’s been hiding in his belly with its growling and urging, it’s elated. Genji descends on Hanzo like he’s ravenous, straddling his lap and kissing his breath away, his fingers finding their way into Hanzo’s loose hair--and Hanzo returns the kiss with a fervor he didn’t know he had, his arms winding around Genji’s waist to pull him closer.

This feels good--this feels right. When Hanzo makes himself stop thinking about if Sojiro would approve, he finds himself more at peace than he can recall being in months; with Genji’s warm weight in his lap and the taste of Genji in his mouth, Genji’s racing heart pounding under his palm as he runs his hand across his brother’s chest. Genji arches into the touch and pulls away from Hanzo’s mouth to gasp, “Anija, please…”

The request is unspoken, but it doesn’t matter. Hanzo grabs Genji’s hips and falls backward, lying down fully on the bed and staring up at him with glassy eyes. 

“Whatever you want,” he breathes--and the permission, unneeded though it may be, flips a switch in Genji that Hanzo can’t recall ever seeing before.

His brother surges forward and throws open Hanzo’s robe, baring the pale, muscular slopes of his chest; his hands roam over the skin greedily, mapping out every inch of the strong body beneath him, what he’s been craving for so long. As soon as his palms have traced over every line and dip he leans down to follow the path with his tongue, feeling Hanzo shudder beneath him as he laves a long, wet line over one plush pectoral--and when he follows it up with his lips, closing his mouth around the dusky nipple to suckle and tease the tight bud with his teeth, the cry that leaves Hanzo is nothing short of sinful.

Genji can’t help his own purr of delight at it, closing his eyes to focus more on toying with Hanzo’s tit, tugging at his nipple with his teeth and trying to pull more sounds from him; and each one is a victory, each gasp and cry that leaves Hanzo’s lips making Genji’s cock stiffen in his pajama pants. 

Hanzo can feel the hard line, the heat of it, against his thigh when Genji leans in to steal another kiss from him. When he pulls away Hanzo arches up to chase after his lips, slipping a hand between them to fumble blindly in the gap of Genji’s thighs and grab at the thick length tenting Genji’s pants.

“Let me have it,” Hanzo breathes, giving Genji’s cock a hungry squeeze and meeting his brother’s glassy gaze. He pulls his legs up and wraps them around Genji’s waist, letting his robe fall open and shivering at the cool air rushing over the skin that his fundoshi doesn’t cover; and when Genji settles himself between the spread of his thighs, when Genji rolls his hips forward to grind their cocks together through the thin clothing, Hanzo can’t stifle his moan.

It’s like nothing he’s felt before--even the quick, careless encounters that Hanzo has had before haven’t had nearly this much energy behind them, this intimacy that has his nerves alight with pleasurable fire. His head tips back against the bed and he lifts his hips up into Genji’s greedy hands, making it easier for him to untie the fundoshi, to let Hanzo’s chubby cock spring free.

“Oh, Hanzo,” Genji breathes, his hand shaking slightly as he closes it around the length of Hanzo’s cock, giving the firm, hot flesh a loving squeeze. “Hanzo--god, anija, I can’t believe…” He leans in close, pressing his lips to Hanzo’s in a searing kiss and murmuring against his mouth, “I’ve wanted this for so long…”

The admission makes the--beast? Spirit? Hunger?--that’s laid low in Hanzo’s belly surge up with a roar, makes him meet the kiss with his own fervor, slipping his tongue past the slack barrier of Genji’s lips to taste his brother’s mouth, to trace the flexing curve of his tongue and swallow down Genji’s noises right from the source. His hands make quick work of the rest of Genji’s clothes, stripping him down so they’re both bare on top of Hanzo’s sheets; and seeing Genji like this, fully exposed and staring down at him with his cheeks flushed, his eyes bright with hunger and his cock springing up erect and dripping between his slender thighs, suddenly makes it all so very real. 

They’re actually doing this--they’ve come too far for Hanzo to back out, now. And though he knows eventually he will have to answer for this taboo, knows that Sojiro would disown them both in a heartbeat if he found out, Hanzo finds that he cannot muster up enough energy to care.

After agonizing over this for so long, he’s earned a respite.

So he lets himself arch into Genji’s hands, relaxes against the bed as Genji’s clever fingers and hot mouth work him open, bit by lavishing bit--and when he feels the first press of Genji’s cock at his hole, he grabs for Genji’s hands and twines their fingers together, squeezing tight when the head of his brother’s dick slips into him.

The stretch burns and Hanzo loves it--loves knowing that it’s Genji that’s making him feel this way, that it’s Genji touching him so intimately, so deeply--and he curls his toes when Genji’s hips finally meet his own, coming to a gentle stop against the meat of Hanzo’s ass. He breaks one hand away from Hanzo’s to run it up one of his brother’s shapely thighs, feeling the tension in the muscles beneath his touch, and tips his head down to press a kiss to Hanzo’s knee. 

“I love you,” Genji murmurs, and Hanzo’s reply is lost in the moan that spills from his lips when his brother starts to move.

Genji’s rhythm is unpredictable--wild--everything that Hanzo loves about him, and all he can do is lock his legs around that trim waist to hold on as his brother fucks into him with every muscle in his being. Each thrust forward has Hanzo arching his back, hips surging up to meet Genji’s, trying to force him deeper even when there is nothing left for Genji to give him; he’s desperate and he can’t help it. He’s been aching for this very thing for so long, hungry for something he didn’t know he could have, forced to sit back and watch Genji’s cycle of girls and agonize over what he was feeling, what he wanted.

He knows, now.

It’s exactly this--the heat of Genji’s body over his, the rock of Genji’s hips against his own, the feeling of Genji spearing him open over and over and over again and marking him, claiming him, where no other ever has. He can feel the pleasure as it mounts in him, stoked by each brush of Genji’s cock within him, coiling tighter and tighter deep within his belly.

He’s close, he knows it; and all it takes is Genji’s lips against his cheek, Genji’s breathy murmur of, “I’m gonna cum, anija”, to have Hanzo’s pleasure cresting and breaking in a white-hot rush between them. Hanzo finds himself so far gone in his own bliss that he barely notices the feeling of Genji’s release inside of him--but it’s Genji’s retreat that has Hanzo’s focus coming back, the sensation of his brother’s dick slipping free of his ass making Hanzo whine and scrabble at Genji’s shoulders.

“Wait--wait…”

“Shh, anija,” Genji soothes, lying down beside Hanzo and gathering him up into his arms. “Shh...mmm, anija, I love you…”

He nestles against the back of Hanzo’s neck, his panting starting to slow as the fatigue and time start to catch up with him; and as Hanzo snuggles up into the expanse of his chest, as he relaxes against the warm cage of Genji’s arms, he finds himself quickly becoming drowsy too. He knows he should make Genji leave--knows he should clean up, knows he should talk to his brother about what they’ve done and what it all means--but the warmth of Genji held so close and the afterglow still making his body hum, Hanzo finds that he just can’t be bothered.

Instead he closes his eyes and slips into sleep, and--finally--the beast inside him quiets into a peaceful slumber as well.

-x-

Standing outside his eldest son’s bedroom door, Sojiro Shimada finds himself feeling sick.

He’d heard his boys’ voices during his nightly stroll, and had wanted to stop by to ensure that Hanzo didn’t stay up too late to render himself fatigued for the critical business meeting early the next day--and instead, he’d come upon a closed door and noise from inside that was impossible to not recognize. It made his stomach turn.

Sojiro turns on a heel to quickly walk back up the hallway, heading toward his own quarters; his mind is racing with all the horrible possibilities that could come from this coupling. He can’t imagine what was going through his sons’ heads when they came up with this horrid idea--but what he does know, is he cannot let it continue.

Sojiro sinks down at his desk and pulls a bottle of sake out of the mini-fridge nearby. 

It will be a long night, and an even longer tomorrow.


End file.
